Donald Campbell: The lure of a legend

At 8.46 on the morning of January 4 1967 Donald Campbell took what became the last great gamble of his life on Coniston Water. Only moments after speeding down the black lake at 297mph, he elected not to refuel, nor to let his wake die down, but to return immediately. At a speed estimated to be well beyond the 300mph average that he sought, his Bluebird turbojet hydroplane left the surface and somersaulted spectacularly to destruction. His body was never found.

Last month, in a simple but moving ceremony by the memorial that now stands to him in the quiet lakeland village, the 25th anniversary of his passing was remembered. Robin Brown, the chairman of the K7 Club named after Bluebird’s racing number, laid a wreath on the memorial that is hewn from Coniston slate.

“Ever since I first saw film of Campbell’s accident, I developed an obsession with the man and the myths around him”

Ever since I first saw film of Campbell’s accident, at the age of 14, I developed an obsession with the man and the many myths that surround him, but it still surprises me just how many others have been so similarly affected. Steve Holter, the curator of The Campbell Hall of Speed in Polegate, East Sussex, and of Paul Ffoulkes-Halberd’s adjacent Filching Manor Motor Museum wherein lives a mock-up of K7 and Sir Malcolm Campbell’s original K3, is but one example.

“At the age of seven my father sat me on his knee to watch the television. Not an unusual thing for a father to do, but the date was January 4 1967. I remember it was about 5.45pm and that my Dad had said, ‘It is the end of an era, you’ll never see the like of this again. The end of an era and a very brave man.’ I would have to be honest and say it was not a day that changed my life, nor were the comments of any meaning to me, but the events of January 7 were.

“I remember waking to find my ‘rich’ aunty Joan’s brand new Triumph Herald convertible outside, which was very odd as she always visited us on Fridays after school. That day was a Saturday, but I was soon to find out what was happening.

“Last night your father was taken ill, and died,’ said my mum. After that I cannot remember a thing. One thing that did occur to me was the last thing I had done with my dad, watching the news from Coniston, and I determined to find out what had so impressed him to make me watch.

When time and money allowed I began reading about Donald M. Campbell, to collect the books written by him, about him, by his family, on his family, about the land speed record and about the water speed record. Books, models, postcards — anything that I could find. I quite clearly remember writing to Ken Norris at Norris Brothers for information: that letter was to end up on Tony James’ desk, an event he reminded me about when I eventually met him in the flesh some 17 years later!